


South of Heaven

by Lint



Series: Damnation [3]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-05 18:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18834502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lint/pseuds/Lint
Summary: “You mean those girls you're friends with?” Her fingers air quote on the word friends. “The weird ones?”Sabrina's mouth slowly curls into a smile.“That I am mad about,” Roz teases. “That you could have told me.”





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

It's mildly disconcerting.

 

 

To be surrounded by light.

 

 

Enveloped in it. Swallowed by it.

 

 

Though she's been in an endless void before, that first night at the Academy and her initiation into the unseen, something about the visage of night was easier to accept than this antithesis. Sabrina knows she doesn't belong in this place. Despite a mortal half she will always embrace and never deny, it grants her passage not acceptance, a strange tug pulling at her heels.

 

 

“Heaven forbid,” she utters quietly, suspicion as to where she may be.

 

 

There's an odd feeling of weightlessness in the shine, despite her feet feeling as if they're on solid ground, walking with no direction clear nor any journey laid out before her. It truly is endless, leaving her to feel boundless, until finally instinct whispers that she stop. Looking up, the light seems to shimmer, a vision coming slowly into focus.

 

 

Suddenly, she's face to face with a mother seen only in pictures, called in séance but words never exchanged with. None in this moment either, tongue still within her mouth, though a hand lifts toward this visage with tears in her eyes.

 

 

“Mom?” she's finally able to question. “Is that...”

 

 

The familiar white dress, somehow defined against the light, as are blonde locks Sabrina once possessed and styled in a similar fashion.

 

 

“Is this real?”

 

 

The vision still shimmers, never quite solidifying, but Sabrina can feeling the calming touch of a hand against her cheek.

 

 

“Beware dear Sabrina,” it states. “Of false smiles and righteous intent.”

 

 

A warning given with no explanation, and she has no chance for a follow up question, that strange tug suddenly pulling her away with full force.

 

 

-

 

 

Eyes snap open to the bare skin of Prudence's shoulder, where the strap on her nightgown has fallen down, but the girl doesn't stir at Sabrina's waking. Rather, the one from behind does, Agatha being the big spoon to her little.

 

 

“Bad dream?” she inquires.

 

 

Sabrina isn't quite sure it was a dream, the place and her mother's touch feeling so real, despite a confounding lack of comparison to any experience she's known.

 

 

“Something is coming,” she offers softly.

 

 

A kiss is pressed to the side of Sabrina's neck, and despite the trepidation stirring within her heart, smiles at the affection given.

 

 

“We'll face it together,” Agatha assures. “Whatever it may be.”

 

 

Another kiss comes and Sabrina wishes it were possible to shift around, without waking Prudence before her and Dorcas on the other side, to embrace Agatha for the comfort offered. Instead, she reaches down to cover the girl's hand with her own, and closes her eyes against the hum of satisfaction vibrating against her skin.

 

 

/\

 

 

The bell above the door chimes, as Sabrina enters Cerberus, heading toward a booth where Roz is waiting. Pulling the bag from her shoulder, she places it on the seat next to her, greeting her friend with a smile.

 

 

“Hey,” she says warmly, then notes that Roz is by herself. “Where are Harvey and Theo?”

 

 

“Basketball practice,” Roz answers before taking a sip of her coffee. “But I wouldn't have asked them to come today anyway.”

 

 

Sabrina's brow quirks at the statement, ordering her own coffee from the waitress that spotted her entry and came over, while Roz waits politely for her to vacate before continuing.

 

 

“Oh?” she questions in a teasing tone. “That sounds ominous.”

 

 

Roz looks down into her cup, offering no reaction off the statement, and Sabrina quickly begins to worry.

 

 

“Hey,” she begins softly, reaching across the table. “What is it? What's wrong?”

 

 

Roz stares into her drink another moment, taking a breath, before meeting Sabrina's eyes while pushing her glasses back up.

 

 

“My family-”

 

 

 

“Is it your dad?” Sabrina can't help to interrupt. “Is he okay?”

 

 

Roz blinks, thrown off by the questions.

 

 

“What? No. He's fine. My Nana-”

 

 

Sabrina gasps and takes her friend's hand.

 

 

“Oh Roz, I'm so sorry.”

 

 

This time the other girl's eyes narrow.

 

 

“She's fine too. 'Brina, can I finish a sentence, please? This is kind of important.”

 

 

Sabrina pulls back, momentarily embarrassed.

 

 

“Right,” she concedes. “Sorry.”

 

 

The waitress returns with Sabrina's coffee, to which she offers thanks, automatically reaching for the sugar and waiting for the conversation to continue.

 

 

“As I was saying, my Nana told me that our family, well... We kind of have this gift.”

 

 

Sabrina's hand stills in stirring, looking back up slowly.

 

 

“What kind of gift?”

 

 

Roz bites her lip.

 

 

“Nana calls it the cunning,” she answers. “But it's more like visions. We Walker women can see things. Things other people can't.”

 

 

Sabrina is almost afraid to ask, but can't help it.

 

 

“Things like..?”

 

 

Roz looks around to make sure no one else can hear, lowering her head, and voice dropping to a whisper.

 

 

“That school you go to,” she states quietly. “It's not for normal kids, is it?”

 

 

Dread grips at Sabrina's heart a moment. Mortals are never to know about the existence of witches, because those that do, tend to fall into fear and hunt them. Roz would never. She knows this. Would bet her life on it, and may have to.

 

 

“No,” she answers honestly. “It's not.”

 

 

Roz nods, already having a feeling, before her sight ever confirmed.

 

 

“Ask me,” Sabrina says. “You know you want to.”

 

 

Roz looks around again.

 

 

“Are you a witch?”

 

 

Sabrina's eyes fall closed.

 

 

“Yes.”

 

 

The momentary pause feels like forever, a sick feeling pooling in her stomach, but is instantly relieved when her friend starts laughing.

 

 

“That is so cool,” Roz assures, her smile genuine, when Sabrina meets her curious gaze.

 

 

“Really?”

 

 

Roz rolls her eyes.

 

 

“Yes!” she exclaims, then throws a hand over her mouth. “I mean, what kinds of things can you do? Brew potions? Cast spells and hexes? Oh! Can you fly?”

 

 

Sabrina is overwhelmed by such a positive reaction. Honestly never expecting one, should she ever had to tell her mortal friends what she truly is. Roz doesn't ask a bigger question, though. About her parentage coming from a god who isn't really. That detail must have been left out of her vision, and Sabrina is glad what ever gift the Walker family has, let her keep that secret at least.

 

 

“Yes,” she answers the first. “But I kind of suck at potions, and my Aunt Hilda always helps me. Spells and hexes, come pretty easy to me. And no, I've never tried.”

 

 

Roz looks as if she has a million more questions, but thinks the better of them considering they're out in public.

 

 

“You're not freaked out?” Sabrina inquires. “Or mad that I kept it a secret?”

 

 

Roz shrugs.

 

 

“Kind of hard to be freaked out when I have my own supernatural thing to deal with,” she gives. “Besides, that is kind of something you don't want out there, and I get that.” She sighs. “Honestly? I felt kind of bad knowing it because of the visions, when you didn't feel comfortable telling me yourself.”

 

 

“Right,” Sabrina agrees with a nod. “You didn't happen to, um, see anything else did you?”

 

 

Roz smirks at her.

 

 

“You mean those girls you're friends with?” Her fingers air quote on the word friends. “The weird ones?”

 

 

Sabrina's mouth slowly curls into a smile.

 

 

“That I am mad about,” Roz teases. “That you could have told me.”

 

/\

 

Sabrina sits in the back row of the Academy's theater, watching as Dorcas and Nick practice their lines for the school play, her father perched in the seat on her left. Zelda interrupts Dorcas as she falters a bit, leaning in close so that no of the other students involved can hear her, a placating hand placed upon the girl's shoulder.

 

 

“So this dream,” her father queries. “You're sure it was real?”

 

 

“Felt too real to be a dream,” she asserts.

 

 

“And your mother-”

 

 

“It was her.”

 

 

“Right,” he accepts. “And the warning?”

 

 

“No clue what she meant,” she sighs. “But it probably means doom is sure to descend on our town yet again.”

 

 

He places a hand on her shoulder, but she can hardly feel it.

 

 

“Shame,” he begins, head turning toward her, tilting the subject toward something less negative. “That you're not the one in the spotlight up there.”

 

 

Sabrina looks at him, brow arched in disbelief.

 

 

“Right,” she deadpans. “The role of your ex-girlfriend, who was pretty intent on flaying me alive, is the one I was born to play.”

 

 

He laughs in delight at her sarcasm, hand lifting to chuck her chin playfully, though it feels like his fingers are barely there.

 

 

“Your high priest's interpretation of the events of our meeting however,” he continues, looking back to the stage as Nick utters his lines. “Leaves something to be desired.”

 

 

“You mean Lilith wasn't subservient from the day you met?” she retorts.

 

 

.He shakes his head.

 

 

“That woman has never kneeled before anyone,” comes his reply. “A main reason as to why she was cast out of the garden.”

 

 

Sabrina is surprised by that.

 

 

“Not even you?”

 

 

He sighs.

 

 

“Despite what my followers have told themselves, and my Father's to be fair, I've never wanted subjugation from her. I wanted love. Loyalty. It's all I ever want from those who choose to follow me. And yet, as with a story as old as ours, things always seem to get lost in translation.”

 

 

Dorcas walks toward the front of the stage, arm waving in a stiff and awkward arc, her lines delivered in a strange clumsy manner. Sabrina cringes, as does her father, who looks over to her again with a pained look on his face.

 

 

“Darling,” he says.

 

 

“Dad.”

 

 

“I know she's one of your girls but...”

 

 

“But?”

 

 

He looks back to the stage, Dorcas continuing the scene, looking very much the robot wishing to be human.

 

 

“But she's truly dreadful,” he states, open palm lifted toward her presence onstage.

 

 

Sabrina nods in agreement.

 

 

“I know,” she accepts. “She's cute up there though, isn't she?”

 

 

He chuckles softly.

 

 

“Together for nearly a year,” he comments. “And still so smitten.”

 

 

Sabrina hums in accordance.

 

 

“Agatha and I are going to help her practice.”

 

 

“Just the two of you? No Prudence?”

 

 

Sabrina shakes her head.

 

 

“The goal is improvement,” she says. “Not having Dorcas burst into tears.”

 

 

He laughs and slaps his knee.

 

 

“I knew I liked that one.”

 

 

Rehearsal must have ended when they weren't looking, because suddenly Dorcas is bounding toward her with Agatha in tow, and Sabrina realizes then that her father was simply projecting his presence because he's gone in a blink. Dorcas approaches quickly, placing both her hands on the armrests of the chair, and leans down with a pleased grin on her face.

 

 

“How was I?” she asks with a sultry voice.

 

 

Rather than lie, Sabrina tilts her head up for a kiss.

 

 

/\

 

 

It's a rare day Sabrina has the house all to herself.

 

 

Hilda is working a shift at Cerberus, Zelda is directing the play at the Academy, of which Dorcas and Agatha both have roles. Ambrose is doing... Whatever it is he does, assisting Father Blackwood these days. She was supposed to spend the afternoon with Prudence, who once again, was pulled away for babysitting duty at the call of her father.

 

 

Sabrina knows Prudence doesn't mind watching after her little half-siblings most days, but the mere expectation that she be available whenever he deems it needed, is really starting to affect their quality time. Looks like she wore this black leather skirt for nothing.

 

 

There's a knock on the door, and Sabrina briefly hopes it isn't mortuary related, because she has really slacked off in her role within the family business, and seriously forgot a lot of the protocol. Not a grieving widow, when she answers the door, rather a chipper looking young man with a tie and name tag.

 

 

“Hello!” He greets. “Can I ask how you are today?”

 

 

Sabrina's brow furrows a moment. Asking permission to ask a question, all while asking it? How odd. Then she notices the bible in his hand, and realizes this isn't some kind of sales pitch. At least not one that involves an exchange of money, anyway.

 

 

“Fine,” she gives, still eyeing him warily. “Can I help you with something?”

 

 

“Yes actually,” he assures, lifting the bible up to give it a firm pat. “I'm a missionary for my church, and I go door to door to spread the gospel of our Lord and Father. Is that by chance, something you're interested in?”

 

 

“Not really,” Sabrina replies. “My family already has a, uh, we already have a faith.”

 

 

He must get told no a lot because it does nothing to damper his spirits.

 

 

“That's a shame,” he gives. “But is there a chance I might trouble you for a glass of water? It's kind of a warm day, and your house was pretty far up the road.”

 

 

Well, she really can't deny a thirsty traveler a glass of water, now can she?

 

 

“Sure,” she agrees, stepping aside to let him in. “This way.”

 

 

She leads him to the kitchen, glancing over her shoulder to see him taking in the house.

 

 

“I have to ask,” she begins. “Do you really get a lot of conversions, going door to door like this?”

 

 

“More than you'd think,” he returns in earnest. “The word of our mighty Lord can always be heard, some just need a little help in knowing how to listen.”

 

 

Sabrina grabs a glass from the cupboard, and fills it with the tap.

 

 

“Here you go,” she offers, handing it to him.

 

 

He accepts, and immediately takes a sip.

 

 

“Thank you. I'm Jerry, by the way.”

 

 

Sabrina's eyes flick to his name tag, noting that Jerry is not short for a name she would recognize like Jeremy or Jeremiah, though it is somewhat close to the latter.

 

 

“Sabrina.”

 

 

He takes another drink.

 

 

“What is your faith?” he inquires. “If you don't mind my asking.”

 

 

For a split second Sabrina is tempted to tell the truth, for no reason she can fathom another than to see his reaction.

 

 

“We're wiccans,” she answers instead.

 

 

Jerry looks confused.

 

 

“I'm sorry?”

 

 

“Wicca? You know, worshiping mother Earth, and all the gifts she bestows upon us?”

 

 

His mouth drops open, and Sabrina expects a sermon right then and there, but he takes one final drink of water and sets the glass down on the table.

 

 

“You're joking,” he realizes, and the most unnerving smile begins to pull at his mouth.

 

 

Her mother's warning immediately echoes within her mind, and Sabrina regrets allowing him into the house. There's a large, pregnant pause between them, but thankfully her phone rings. It's Roz, whose visions have just basically confirmed what Sabrina's instincts are beginning to shout, he is here to hurt her. To kill her.

 

 

Jerry doesn't have to hear the conversation to know he's been found out, a hand reaching behind his back to pull out a rather large knife, engraved with several crosses.

 

 

“I give you this one chance Sabrina,” he says. “Repent your sinful ways, and accept our Lord's forgiveness.”

 

 

Sabrina doesn't even bother with a clever quip, throwing up hands and blasting him backward with a quick defense hex, before sprinting for the back door. Once outside she throws up every protection ward she can think of, essentially sealing him within the house, and spots Hilda's bike leaning against the garden fence.

 

 

A scream bellows from within the house, just as she throws her leg over the frame, then pedals as fast as she can for the road. Another scream comes, and Sabrina turns her head just in time to see the front door blown off its hinges, Jerry stumbling onto the porch as his chest heaves with rage. He's going to give chase, that she has no doubt, and starts pedaling even harder. He screams again, because words have apparently left him, and she starts to panic because there's no way this bike can go any faster. 

 

 

It's then she feels power begin to surge within, the front wheel lifting off the ground even though she hasn't pulled on the handlebars, quickly followed by the back as gravity no longer appears to be a limitation.

 

 

Looks like she has a new answer to Roz's question about whether or not she can fly, and would laugh in joy of this discovery, if the situation wasn't so dire.

 

 

Jerry is still rooted on the ground when she looks down, somehow guiding herself where to go with just a thought alone, and heads straight toward Gehenna Station.

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Sabrina learns the hard way, that while discovering she is fully capable of flight, the preexisting knowledge of how to land does not come with it. The bicycle hits the ground with a resounding thud, sending her flying over the handlebars, but luckily she manages to roll with the momentum. With cool Earth beneath her palms, she assesses any possible damage, and is pleasantly surprised to find none. The same can't be said for Aunt Hilda's bike though, both wheels mangled upon impact, as well as the cranks and handlebars being bent far out of proportion.

 

 

Rising to her feet she notices the door to the academy is open, which is already a bad sign as it's not even supposed to be capable of being left that way, spelled to shut automatically should any witch ever not close it properly. Once inside she treads along cautiously, head tilted to listen for anyone or thing, that might be laying in wait. It's eerily silent however, when she gets to the main hall, and pauses at the sight of stone rubble strewn about the floor.

 

 

It's Baphomet, she realizes, and wonders if these Witch Hunters have brought sledgehammers along with their knives. A few of the bigger pieces are stained with blood, as her eyes follow along the trail to a source.

 

 

“Nick!” she shouts, rushing over to him, still alive but barely.

 

 

Despite the graveness of his injuries, he manages to smile.

 

 

“H-hey, Sp-Sp-Spellman.”

 

 

“Don't talk,” she insists, despite a flurry of questions she wants to ask. Has he seen her Aunt? Her cousin? Agatha and Dorcas? “Don't even move.”

 

 

Her hands hover above him, afraid to actually touch and somehow make it worse. The knife responsible for all the blood remains lodged in his chest, but at least she knows to leave it in.

 

 

“I'm sorry,” she nearly sobs. “I don't... I don't know any healing spells strong enough to do anything.”

 

 

Somehow he laughs, a hand reaching for hers, cut off by a cough that causes more blood to sputter from his mouth.

 

 

“H-hunters,” he manages to say.

 

 

“Shh,” she admonishes him for speaking. “I know.”

 

 

In a moment of pure happenstance Hilda appears from around one of the corners, and makes a beeline toward them, Sabrina awash with relief.

 

 

“Auntie!” she shouts. “Its bad. It's so bad and I don't know what to do.”

 

 

“Okay,” Hilda replies, moving to kneel next to her, and offers a reassuring smile. “Alright. Don't you worry, Nicolas. We'll make you right as rain.”

 

 

Sabrina watches as her Aunt makes slow circles just above Nick's wounds, muttering incantations with her eyes closed in concentration, then turns quickly toward a flutter of movement from the corner of her eye. The hex is perched on the tip of her tongue, when Prudence comes into view, and Sabrina springs to her feet rushing toward her.

 

 

“Sabrina!” Prudence exclaims. “Thank Satan you're alright.”

 

 

They embrace fiercely, Prudence cupping the back of Sabrina's head, as she rests it momentarily on the taller girl's chest. When they part Sabrina looks her over, taking a second to appreciate the long leather duster she is certain Prudence has never worn before. Nor has she ever seen the girl with a sword, let along two, strapped to her back.

 

 

“Were you attacked too?” Sabrina asks, eyes focused on one of the handles peeking over Prudence's shoulder.

 

“No,” she answers.

 

 

“Then how did-”

 

 

“Father and Lady Blackwood returned home rather abruptly,” Prudence explains further. “Took the twins from my arms, and were quite insistent we flee. When I asked him the reason, he said Witch Hunters were attacking the academy, and there was nothing to be done.”

 

 

Sabrina's mouth drops open.

 

 

“So he's not coming with some kind of reinforcements?”

 

 

Prudence shakes her head.

 

 

“Just like with the Thirteen, he'd rather hide than fight.” She scowls. “I thought many callous things about that man, but somehow never imagined him a coward. How wrong I was.”

 

 

Sabrina places a hand on her cheek, when Hilda pulls their attention to her.

 

 

“It's not working,” she laments. “None of my spells...”

 

 

Prudence, seeing Nick on the ground for the first time, moves to his side.

 

 

“Nicky darling,” she sighs, smoothing a hand over his hair. “What have they done to you?”

 

 

Hilda pulls Sabrina's wrist and guides her to Nick's shoulders, then points Prudence toward his feet.

 

 

“We'll have to get him in the infirmary.”

 

 

Sabrina looks around.

 

 

“But the Hunters-”

 

 

“It's try or let him die my love,” Hilda interrupts. “And I think I know which you'd prefer.”

 

 

-

 

Once Nick is settled, Sabrina and Prudence head out to scour the school for Agatha and Dorcas, as well as any other survivors they may come across. Sabrina's eyes can't help but follow the blade as Prudence pulls one of the swords from it's sheath, and is met with a smirk when noticed.

 

 

“How come I don't remember sword play from our activities growing up?” she asks.

 

 

“Because they don't teach it in mortal school,” Prudence shoots back. “And honestly, why would swords ever come up conversationally?”

 

 

Sabrina has no argument for that, and returns focus to the task at hand. The theater is empty when they finally reach it, as were any rooms checked on the way there, but walk down separate aisles checking between the seats just in case. No witches hiding, but no Hunters either. Sabrina looks to the stage, eyes narrowing as she recognizes something fallen to its side, and walks quickly toward it. Prudence notices and follows quickly, standing next to Sabrina as she picks the shoe up.

 

 

“It's one of Dorcas',” she informs.

 

 

Prudence agrees with a nod.

 

 

“So she was captured, or fled so quickly she lost it, and is hobbling around with Agatha on one foot.”

 

 

Sabrina agrees setting it back down, continuing toward the backstage area, where they are nearly ambushed by Ambrose. Upon the realization they're no threat, he pulls both of them into a loose hug, and calls over his shoulder where a handful of younger students emerge from their hiding places.

 

 

“Auntie Zee charged me with protecting them,” he fills in.

 

 

“Is she okay?” Sabrina asks. “Do you know where she is?”

 

 

Ambrose shakes his head.

 

 

“She had her own group to look after,” he answers. “We were too large to sneak around freely, but if I had to guess, I'd say the library.”

 

 

Sabrina and Prudence share a look, the silent agreement that's where they'll go next.

 

 

“Hilda is in the infirmary with Nick,” she informs her cousin. “We didn't come across any Hunters on the way here, and the main hall is empty too. You can probably escape without being seen.”

 

 

Ambrose puts a hand on her shoulder.

 

 

“Be safe cousin.”

 

 

Sabrina nods.

 

 

“You too.”

 

 

-

 

 

The library is also empty upon first glance, as were the halls leading to it, and Sabrina is starting to think the Hunters have done the damage they intended and moved on. The worrisome part remaining that they haven't found Agatha or Dorcas, or Zelda, even if Sabrina is strangely confident no Hunter could ever get the best of her Aunt.

 

 

Speak of the devil, when a glamour spell falls like a curtain dropped, and there she is with another handful of younger students under her protection.

 

 

“You shouldn't be here,” Zelda chides, though the expression on her face looks rather proud.

 

 

“Where else would we be?” Sabrina replies, looking to Prudence. “We protect our own.”

 

 

Zelda nods in agreement.

 

 

“Quite right,” she says, then also looks to Prudence. “Can we expect Father Blackwood to put the Academy on lock down until all the students are accounted for?”

 

 

“You can't expect him to do anything from the shadows,” Prudence spits out.

 

 

Zelda does not look the least bit surprised by the statement.

 

 

“Damn you Faustus,” she sighs.

 

 

“Auntie Zee,” Sabrina presses. “What about the older students? Agatha and Dorcas?”

 

 

“Fled the second those Hunters stormed in,” Zelda answers. “While your cousin and I looked after the younger ones. If we're lucky, most of them got out. If we're not-”

 

“Please don't finish that sentence,” Prudence interrupts.

 

 

Sabrina steps closer and takes her hand.

 

 

“We'll find them,” she assures.

 

 

Prudence looks as if she could cry, but is fighting it with all her might.

 

 

“Excuse me miss?” a voice calls from behind.

 

 

Sabrina turns to see a familiar trouble making ghost standing between two tables.

 

 

“I might have seen those girls you're asking about.”

 

 

Prudence takes an angry step toward him.

 

 

“You either did or did not,” she grumbles. “Which is it?”

 

 

Quentin regards her dismissively.

 

 

“Did miss,” he answers. “Those Hunters took them away. The other ghosts and I heard them talking about heading to our desecrated church.”

 

 

Prudence isn't convinced.

 

 

“Why would they go there?”

 

 

“Didn't say, miss.”

 

 

“Deceitful little poltergeist,” Prudence seethes. “You don't really care what happens to my Sisters. Why should I believe a word you say?”

 

 

Quentin smirks at her.

 

 

“Because miss,” he reasons. “If all the witches are dead, there will be no one left to play with.”

 

 

/\

 

 

The doors to the church are wide open, just as the ones at the academy were, a subtle invitation to their doom.

 

 

Sabrina stops a good fifty feet away from the entrance, glancing toward Prudence. She wants to tell her to wait outside, even though that would never happen. She wants to tell her about the dream of her mother, because she never quite found the right moment before. She wants to tell her about how it took such a severe fight or flight response, to discover she is actually capable of flying. She wants to tell Prudence that being with her, and the Sisters, has been the happiest time of her life. She wants to tell her so many things, because the possibility of never walking out of that church feels very real.

 

 

“What are we waiting for?” Prudence questions. “Our Sisters are in there.”

 

 

Sabrina looks back to the entrance.

 

 

“There's something different about these Hunters.”

 

 

“And you didn't think to mention it before?”

 

 

“Kind of busy trying to save everyone I care about.”

 

 

Prudence waits for her to continue.

 

 

“I threw every ward I knew at my house, to trap the one after me inside, and he broke through them all like they were made of paper.”

 

 

Prudence pulls both the swords from their scabbards.

 

 

“What kind of mortal can do that?” she asks.

 

 

“No idea,” Sabrina replies. “Just, you know, stay on your toes.”

 

 

Prudence nods.

 

 

“So what's the plan? Storm in, rescue Agatha and Dorcas, then fight our way out?”

 

 

Sabrina concentrates a moment, until hellfire begins to burn within in her palms.

 

 

“Actually,” she counters. “I think they're waiting for us to walk right in.”

 

 

Prudence takes a deep breath.

 

 

“Well then, let's not disappoint them.”

 

-

 

They should have stormed in.

 

 

Sabrina and Prudence get ten steps inside the church, gasping at the sight of Agatha and Dorcas tied to unlit pyres like the witch trials of old, when one of the Hunters slips silently behind Prudence and pushes her violently to the ground. Then, when Sabrina moves to retaliate, another sneaks up behind her, and places a golden crown of thorns upon her head. A flash of pain blinds momentarily, as she drops down to her knees, and by the time her vision clears Prudence has joined her Sisters on the altar.

 

 

“Sabrina Spellman!” Jerry greets with all the enthusiasm of a game show host, waving the crossbow in hand in a large arc. “Welcome to our new house of the Lord!”

 

 

Blood from the thorns trickles down her face, as she pushes up to her feet, intent on making hellfire once again. Jerry must realize this, because he waggles a finger back and forth.

 

 

“No, no, no,” he admonishes. “No spells in a house of god. The crown makes sure of that.”

 

 

“It's not his house until you reconsecrate it,” she shoots back, trying to pry the crown from her head, and yelping when it burns her hands.

 

 

“Too true,” he agrees. “A little of that, some stained glass, and this den of sin will be good as new.”

 

 

Sabrina glances over her shoulder, looking for the quiet one, but she is nowhere to be seen.

 

 

“Let them go,” she warns.

 

 

Jerry looks at each one of the Sisters.

 

 

“Let them go?” he repeats. “Why would I ever do that?”

 

 

“Because you're not here for them,” Sabrina continues.

 

 

That unnerving smile again. Like the one back at the house.

 

 

“My Lord said you'd be clever.”

 

 

Sabrina steps forward, but Jerry points the crossbow right at her.

 

 

“You know who I am,” she states. “So, what do you want with me?”

 

 

Jerry looks to her curiously.

 

 

“Isn't it obvious?” he asks. “We want to save you.”

 

 

Sabrina frowns.

 

 

“Save me?” she echoes. “By trying to kill me? By trying to kill everyone that I love?”

 

 

Jerry swivels back to the Sisters again.

 

 

“Love?” he questions. “Is that what think exists between the four of you? You take what God has gave, then pervert it with sin and polyamory.”

 

 

Sabrina ignores his judgment.

 

 

“That's doesn't answer my question.”

 

 

“Right,” Jerry agrees, shaking the crossbow. “Right.”

 

 

He moves about the altar, weaving round and around the Sisters tied to their pyres.

 

 

“To save a soul that soul must repent,” he beings. “And once that soul repents, truly honestly repents, it can be forgiven.”

 

 

He takes turns pointing the crossbow at each Sister, and Sabrina tries again for hellfire, groaning against the pain caused by the crown. She still doesn't know where the other Hunter is.

 

 

“Once that soul is forgiven,” he goes on. “It is granted entry into the kingdom of heaven.”

 

 

Sabrina is beginning to understand.

 

 

“Oooooh,” she states, head tilting back slightly. “I get it. If you and your Hunter buddies manage to sway the Dark Lord's daughter into converting in the false god's name, well, what a notch on his belt that would be.”

 

 

Jerry is not amused.

 

 

“Pride is a sin,” he warns.

 

 

“So is murder.”

 

 

He laughs.

 

 

“Killing sinners is not murder,” he denies. “It's mercy. This is your last chance Sabrina. Repent. Kneel before God, and pray with me.”

 

 

Sabrina takes another step closer, and again he points the crossbow at her.

 

 

“I kneel before no one,” she denies. “Not even my own father. Why would I ever before yours?”

 

 

How she wants to rip that stupid smile from his face.

 

 

“Because if you don't,” he taunts. “I will burn each one of these witches before you. I will cleanse this entire town of the sin it is drowning in while you watch. And if that still isn't enough to compel your cooperation? Then, and only then, will I grant you the mercy of death.”

 

 

For a moment, they simply stare at each other.

 

 

“I assure you Sabrina Spellman,” he warns. “We are no ordinary Hunters. We are the Lord's soldiers. We are divine.”

 

 

“Angels,” she realizes softly, hesitating in both action and reply.

 

 

“Sabrina don't do it!” Dorcas shouts.

 

 

“Silence witch!” Jerry yells.

 

 

“If we die we'll be delivered into the Dark Lord's heart!” Agatha cries.

 

 

“I said silence!”

 

 

“You know your father will take good care of us!” Prudence assures.

 

 

Jerry pulls a box of matches from his pocket, ignites a few, and tosses them onto the pyres.

 

 

“No!” Sabrina screams. “Let them go!”

 

 

He turns back to her.

 

 

“Kneel.”

 

 

“Never!”

 

 

He points the crossbow at her again, the flames beginning to bloom at each girl's feet, as all three start to struggle against their bonds.

 

 

“Then you die,” Jerry says calmly. “Like Saint Sebastian.”

 

 

He fires an arrow into her chest, the pain sharp and agonizing, but she does not fall. Instead she steps forward, fighting through it, willing the hellfire to burn within. Jerry fires another arrow, and she still manages to stay on her feet, wanting to scream from the agony of it and the crown but carries on.

 

 

“Don't worry girls,” she tries to assure. “No one is going to die today.”

 

 

“Oh child,” Jerry denounces, firing another arrow. “Everyone is going to die!”

 

 

That one proves to be too much, as she does drop to a knee, yet still wants to fight. The Sisters look to her with pained faces, their fate and hers seemingly sealed together. Sabrina lifts a shaking hand toward him, the smallest hint of a spark breaking through, when the other Hunter she couldn't keep track of appears behind her.

 

 

“For the one true God” the lady Hunter whispers in her ear. “I will smite thee.”

 

 

Sabrina can no longer breathe, when the knife slips quietly between her ribs, and finally collapses to the ground as the Sisters cry her name.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

When Sabrina opens her eyes, it's not the wooden ceiling of their church she sees, rather the plain white of the Academy's infirmary. Flat on her back, she's not alone on the sterile bed, Agatha and Dorcas perched carefully on the edge. Their attention, however momentarily, does not seem to be focused on her. Rather an intense sounding conversation between her Aunts, Ambrose, and Prudence.

 

 

No one seems to notice she's awakened, which gives her a second to think, and realize that she's still a pin cushion full of arrows along with the knife wedged between her ribs. It's the oddest thing, none of these weapons are causing her any pain at all, and very slowly attempts to pull one of the arrows out.

 

 

She doesn't feel anything other than a strange pull of skin, so immediately goes for another, and in just a few moments manages to get them all out. The knife remains a hindrance, but there's no way she can shift her arm to remove it without alerting Agatha and Dorcas.

 

 

It's Nick's sputtering cough, that shakes her out of this quiet revere, as well as Hilda's lament that no matter what she does none of the wounds are closing. Sitting up quickly, Sabrina causes both girls to gasp and jump, as she finally pulls the knife out letting it clank on the floor.

 

 

Everyone's attention is on her then, all with their individual exclamations of shock and awe that she's awake, let alone moving. Nudging Agatha and Dorcas off the bed, she swings her legs over the mattress, and rises to her feet. Nick is just moments away from death, so much blood lost and too much time passed, but somehow she knows it's a problem that can be solved.

 

 

She doesn't explain herself, despite the flurry of questions being thrown her way, focusing on the task before her. Hands hovering above Nick's chest, not afraid to touch as she was before, a confidence building within as the power emanates from her fingers.

 

 

Stating three simple sentences: _he's okay, his heart is strong, his body will heal,_ makes reality bend to her word.

 

 

Everyone is staring at her, when she turns back to assure them, that he's going to be just fine.

 

 

“How?” questions Hilda.

 

 

“Dear Lucifer,” mutters Zelda.

 

 

Ambrose continues to look on blankly.

 

 

All three Sisters rush over, wrapping their arms around her, each one shifting to allow the other to place relieved kisses all over Sabrina's face. She can't help to laugh under the bombardment, each girl fighting back the tears is their eyes.

 

 

“I'm fine,” Sabrina assures softly, with no explanation ready as to how.

 

 

Prudence stands directly in front of her, cupping Sabrina's face, eyes focused with a fear she has never felt nor has Sabrina ever seen in her.

 

 

“Do not ever,” she warns with a shaking voice. “Ever, frighten us like that again.”

 

 

Sabrina bites her lip, and can only manage a nod, though she knows it's a promise impossible to keep. Prudence then kisses her with a tenderness that Sabrina wants to roll into a little ball, tuck it into her pocket, and keep forever.

 

 

“We love you,” she offers softly.

 

 

“We love you,” Agatha seconds.

 

 

“We love you,” Dorcas thirds.

 

 

A smile so wide, appears on Sabrina's face, that her cheeks burn with the flush of emotion.

 

 

“I love you too,” she replies. “Each of you. All of you.”

 

 

For a moment they enjoy the embrace, until Hilda and Zelda clear their throats, and the three finally pull themselves away.

 

 

“So,” Sabrina begins, the curiosity of the events leading her back here, finally coming to the forefront of her thoughts. “What happened?”

 

 

The question seems to freeze the girls, all exchanging a look with one another, then back to Sabrina.

 

 

“You don't remember?” they all ask at once.

 

 

Sabrina shakes her head.

 

 

“I remember that Hunter lighting those matches. The fires at your feet.” Her hands touch each spot on her body where an arrow had struck. “The arrows. The knife. I remember falling to the ground...”

 

 

It's blank after that. No dark. No light. Just nothing.

 

 

The Sisters take each others hand.

 

 

“You rose up from the floor,” Prudence begins.

 

 

“Flew above their heads,” Agatha continues.

 

 

“With hellfire burning in your palms,” Dorcas finishes.

 

 

Sabrina listens to the events, though still feels nothing as to her part in them.

 

 

“Hold on,” Zelda chimes in, folding her arms. “You want us to believe she was flying?”

 

 

All three girls look back to her, and answer _yes_ in unison.

 

 

Then Hilda's eyes catch Sabrina's. “You can fly?”

 

 

Sabrina shrugs, having just learned that about herself earlier today. Satan, it feels like forever ago, and not just a few hours.

 

 

“That's how I got away from the Hunter at the house,” answered as calmly as she can muster.

 

 

The Sister's heads snap back to her.

 

 

“You knew you had wings?” Prudence questions. “And didn't think to mention it?”

 

 

Wings? Sabrina wonders. No, that's... That's new.

 

 

“I-I didn't,” she gives. “It was more like the Wicked Witch of the West on Aunt Hilda's bike.” She then looks to her Aunt. “Which I kind of destroyed on the landing. Sorry.”

 

 

Hilda nods numbly. “Quite alright,” she assures.

 

 

Sabrina looks back to the Sisters.

 

 

“So, I had-”

 

 

“Wings,” Prudence asserts.

 

 

“Beautiful and black,” Agatha comments.

 

 

“Like a raven's,” Dorcas adds.

 

 

Sabrina's hand moves immediately to her shoulder, as if they would suddenly appear at the mention of their existence, eyes following that hand to look back and assure nothing is there.

 

 

“You flew above their heads,” Prudence repeats. “Your eyes gone white, head still bleeding from the crown, and demanded they release us.”

 

 

“When they refused,” Agatha continues. “You put the fires out yourself.”

 

 

“Then you told them to take Lucifer Morningstar into their hearts,” Dorcas chimes in. “And made them recite his prayer, or they would burn in your hellfire.”

 

 

Sabrina listens as if someone is reciting the plot of a movie she's never seen, imagining all the details, but unable to see them for herself.

 

 

“Did they?” she asks.

 

 

“Yes,” the Sisters answer in chorus.

 

 

“I burned them anyway,” Sabrina goes on. “Didn't I?”

 

 

“Yes,” echoed again.

 

 

For a moment no one appears to know what to say at the revelation, and that's when Lucifer himself appears in the room. Everyone drops to a knee at his presence, save for Sabrina, and Nick still laid out on the bed. He only has eyes for his daughter, who gives a slow sad smile.

 

 

“Hey Dad,” she greets quietly.

 

 

He takes the few steps necessary, to draw her into his arms, one hand immediately going to the back of her head and smoothing along her hair.

 

 

“I'm okay,” she urges softly, despite the fact that she just burst into tears. “I'm okay.”

 

 

/\

 

 

A week passes and no other Hunters, angels or human, come stalking into Greendale. Nor does Sabrina receive any dreams of warning from what may, or may not have been, her mother. It's quite surprising, because she thought retaliation for disposing two of the false god's soldiers, would be swift and merciless. Though, she has a sneaking suspicion her dad may have something to do with it.

 

 

Father Blackwood has yet to return from his exile, but the rest of the coven has convened to help rebuild the Academy under the guidance of Aunt Zelda. Sabrina and the Sisters spend most of what would be the school day, helping out with that, but come the weekend, they're all sitting around the living room of the Spellman house watching every horror movie in Sabrina's collection.

 

 

“I should invite my friends over,” she announces to the group, who turn to her with the unasked question in each of their eyes. “My mortal friends,” clarified in an even tone. “I think it's time they meet you.”

 

 

Prudence regards her curiously.

 

 

“As your private school chums?” she questions.

 

 

Sabrina smirks.

 

 

“No,” she replies. “As my girlfriends.”

 

 

Agatha and Dorcas share a giggle between them, while Prudence smiles warily.

 

 

“If you must,” she sighs. “Though Satan knows what we'll have to talk about.”

 

 

Sabrina calls them, and much to her pleasure, all three are currently not doing anything important and agree to head over to the house. It's only then that Sabrina starts to become a little nervous, despite it being her idea, she's done pretty well at keeping her two worlds from ever colliding.

 

 

The doorbell rings and she practically leaps from her seat to answer it, giving an overenthusiastic hello to her friends on the other side. Roz, Harvey, and Theo all regard her strangely. Even more so for the awkward few beats where Sabrina doesn't step aside to let them in. When they pass, she leads them back to the living room and offers drinks or snacks, which Harvey instantly takes her up on.

 

 

“Guys,” she begins to her mortal friends. “This is Prudence, Agatha, and Dorcas. My... My girlfriends.”

 

 

Roz shoots her a knowing look, but Harvey and Theo aren't phased by the statement at all, offering polite greetings in return. Sabrina heads for the kitchen to grab the snacks, and Roz accompanies her, while Harvey and Theo take seats on the floor in front of the TV.

 

 

“Feeling bold?” Roz teases once they're in the kitchen.

 

 

Sabrina has been feeling strangely that, ever since that incident in the church she still can't remember, but the power unleashed in her coming back from the dead still flows within her veins. Briefly she wonders if one of Roz's visions showed her anything that happened, though guesses it would have been brought up if she had.

 

 

“Not particularly,” she replies with a shrug. “I don't even think the boys realize what I meant.”

 

 

Roz laughs.

 

 

“No, they did not,” she agrees looking out into the living room, where the motley crew is assembled, then back to Sabrina. “They're all so pretty.”

 

 

Sabrina smiles.

 

 

“Aren't they?”

 

 

They return to the living room loaded up with chips, soda, and popcorn. Then Sabrina puts on Night of the Living Dead, before moving to the couch, and sitting between Prudence and Dorcas with Agatha on the edge. Truthfully, Sabrina assumed it would be Prudence who would do something affectionate to show the boys what they'd clearly missed off her introduction, but it's Dorcas who cuddles into Sabrina's side and sighs contently.

 

 

It catches Theo's attention, who turns his head toward them, with an eyebrow raised in question. Sabrina's smile is answer enough, as he nods mouthing 'oh' before looking back to the movie.

 

 

Eventually Prudence does the same on Sabrina's opposite side, while Agatha leans against Dorcas and reaches across her sister to twine fingers with Sabrina. That turns Harvey's head, who looks at them huddled up together in confusion, but goes back to the movie before Sabrina has the chance to confirm his suspicions.

 

 

They almost get through the entire Romero trilogy, before Roz is rising to her feet, wanting to call it a night. Harvey agrees, as he'd driven everyone over, and Theo goes along without commenting further. Pleasant goodbyes are exchanged between witch and mortal, and Sabrina escorts her friends to the door. She hugs Roz and Theo, who head toward Harvey's truck, while he stands just outside the door a moment.

 

 

“So,” he begins, nodding his head back to the house. “You and all those girls?”

 

 

Sabrina nods.

 

 

“You can do that?”

 

 

She laughs and presses up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

 

 

“Harvey Kinkle, don't ever you change.”

 

 

He smiles in return, placing a hand on his cheek, before heading across the porch and down the steps.

 

/\

 

 

Upon entering his office, Father Blackwood pauses at the sight of Sabrina sitting in his chair, but pointedly offers no reaction. Shedding his coat and placing it on the rack, he looks back as if he expected her to vacate in the meantime, while she has not.

 

 

“Does your insolence know no bounds?” he asks.

 

 

“No,” she offers up coolly. “Does your sense of self importance?”

 

 

She can see the grip tighten on his cane, as he comes to a stop in front of the desk.

 

 

“Do you really think,” he carries on in a warning tone. “That dispatching a couple of witch hunters earns you special privileges?”

 

 

Sabrina steeples her fingers.

 

 

“Actually,” she replies. “I kind of do.”

 

 

Leaning back in the chair, she almost props her feet up on the desk, but finds her legs just a bit too short to pull it off. It's clear to see he thinks he's still in charge of the school. The coven. That there would be no consequence for deserting them, and he could just come back whenever he pleased, like nothing had ever happened. She wonders how long he's going to put up with her sitting in his chair.

 

 

“What do you hope to accomplish?” he asks, a single finger waving between them. “With this little display?”

 

 

Sabrina grins.

 

 

“I think I've already accomplished it,” she replies. “Before you wouldn't have hesitated to kick me out of this chair. This office. But look at you now. No raised voice. No threats of punishment or expulsion. It's like you realized things have changed around here, but walked in anyway, hoping no one would actually enforce it.”

 

 

His nostrils flair in anger, but he still does not threaten, or raise his voice.

 

 

“I am High Priest of this coven,” he growls.

 

 

“Were,” she shoots back. “Faustus Blackwood, you are hereby stripped of your title, and excommunicated from the Church of Night.”

 

 

That gets a reaction out of him, raising his cane as if he's going to strike her across the head, but somehow thinks better of it.

 

 

“You dare speak to me in such a way?” he seethes. “You are a first year student. A sixteen year old know nothing little _girl_. Who are you to strip me of anything?”

 

 

Sabrina rises from the chair, eyes focused on his cane still poised to strike, and feels the wings spread free from her back. Faustus has the good sense to be shocked at the display, actually taking a step back, and finally lowering the cane.

 

 

“I am Sabrina Spellman,” she states. “Child of night. Daughter of the Dark Lord.”

 

 

He doesn't believe her. Despite what he sees. Not for one second.

 

 

“Lies,” he spits. “And illusions. Nothing more.”

 

 

Sabrina smiles once more.

 

 

“There's that self importance again,” she taunts. “You don't believe something to be true, so it can't possibly be.”

 

 

Faustus' lips curl into a snarl, and Sabrina can practically hear the spell forming in his mind, one that would slash her throat. Then the office suddenly becomes a distorted image of itself, perception slashed and turned sideways, the Beast appearing behind him.

 

 

“Hi daddy,” she greets.

 

 

The Beast snarls at Faustus, who nearly falls to the floor trying to back away, looking frantically between the two of them. It's as if he realizes, perhaps for the first time in his life, there will be actual consequences to his actions.

 

 

“Father Blackwood,” the Beast hisses. “I can forgive failures of my High Priests, but cowardice is a trait I simply cannot overlook.”

 

 

“My Lord,” Faustus fumbles. “I was merely trying to protect my family.”

 

 

The Beast tilts its head at him.

 

 

“By abandoning your coven?” It questions. “By leaving it to face angels of the lord all on their own?”

 

 

Blackwood looks to Sabrina then, knowing she's the one who stopped the Hunters. Killed them.

 

 

Her wings spread themselves to length as she preens at him.

 

 

“Faustus Blackwood,” the Beast snarls. “You are hereby stripped of your title, and excommunicated from the Church of Night.”

 

 

Sabrina can see his hands shaking, finally taking the words to heart due to the source, but he still attempts to put up a front.

 

 

“As you wish my Lord,” he says, dropping to a knee. “I'll just collect my family and-”

 

 

“No,” the Beast denies. “They will remain with the coven.”

 

 

Faustus looks up.

 

 

“My Lord?”

 

 

The Beast steps toward him, fetid breath pushing from its snout.

 

 

“They will be better off without you,” it assures. “And you will have no need of them where you're going.”

 

 

Faustus looks back to Sabrina, then to the Beast again.

 

 

“I don't understand.”

 

 

The Beast towers over him.

 

 

“She did not deceive you, Blackwood. Sabrina is my daughter, and what is a father's duty, if not to make his children happy?”

 

 

Sabrina rounds the desk with slow deliberate steps, and is not above taking a small amount of pleasure, in watching Blackwood cower before them.

 

 

“Things have been of stale for awhile now,” she tells him. “It's time for a change. And I can think of nothing better, than to inform you that the coronation for the first High Priestess of the Church of Night, will happen this very evening.”

 

 

Even now, Blackwood's misogyny shines through with a look of disgust on his face.

 

 

“You?” he questions.

 

 

Sabrina can't help but laugh.

 

 

“Me?” she replies. “You said it yourself Father. I'm just a first year student. A sixteen year old, know nothing little girl. Me leading the coven would be a disaster.”

 

 

His eyes flick to the Beast and back.

 

 

“Then who?”

 

 

“Zelda Spellman,” Sabrina answers. “Will be a great leader. As she's proven in your absence.”

 

 

“A fine choice,” the Beast agrees, then focuses back to Faustus. “As for you, it's straight to the pit.”

 

 

“My Lord,” he trembles. “Is cowardice really so harsh a crime?”

 

 

The Beast snorts angrily.

 

 

“No,” it gives. “But daring to even think of slitting my daughter's throat is what sealed your fate.”

 

 

Suddenly the ground opens up, and swallows Faustus whole, so quickly he doesn't even have a chance to scream.

 

 

Sabrina feels her wings retract, just as her father removes the Beast from his head, and offers a proud smile.

 

 

“Not going to lie,” she begins, looking down at the spot where Blackwood disappeared. “That was kind of fun.”

 

 

/\

 

 

Sabrina takes a seat toward the back of the hall, slightly breathless on weary feet, from the endless bouts of dancing with her girls. The coronation ceremony for Aunt Zelda had gone off without a hitch, the Dark Lord himself being there (as the beast), demanded no trouble. Fanning herself with a free hand, the hairs on the back of her neck suddenly rise, as they're wont to do when her father makes an appearance.

 

 

He's next to her in a blink, wearing a black tux, with the bow tie hanging casually off his neck. They watch the coven dance themselves into a frenzy in silence. Hilda and Zelda twirl around the floor together, as does Agatha and Dorcas, while Prudence pairs up with Ambrose.

 

 

“It was a lovely ceremony,” he comments, eyes still focused forward.

 

 

“It was,” she agrees.

 

 

The act of him absently scratching at his knee, is caught from the corner of Sabrina's eye, and she knows he's just waiting for the right moment to tell her something.

 

 

“Heaven knows you exist,” he says

 

 

The information isn't new, Hunters already sent to convert or kill her, already a big indication of that.

 

 

“Does that mean more angels are coming?” she asks.

 

 

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

 

 

“Unclear,” he answers. “But I've put in a request.”

 

 

Her head turns to him.

 

 

“For what?”

 

 

“A chat.”

 

 

Sabrina purses her lips.

 

 

“With-”

 

 

“Him,” he interrupts. “It. They. Whatever pronoun is appropriate for an omnipotent creator of all, these days.”

 

 

For a moment she sits there, stunned.

 

 

“The false god,” she states. “Or just god. Whatever.”

 

 

“Yes.”

 

 

“What are you going to say?”

 

 

He smiles at her.

 

 

“That you are not a harbinger of the apocalypse. That you have no desire to conquer the kingdom, or convert the world to my word.” He takes her hand in his. “That you are just a child, my child, and that love can exist where it was never meant to.”

 

 

Tears well in Sabrina's eyes.

 

 

“Sounds like a good speech.”

 

 

He shrugs.

 

 

“I may have made some notes. Practiced a little.”

 

 

She gives his hand a squeeze.

 

 

“I think mom is up there.”

 

 

“Yes,” he agrees. “I think so too.”

 

 

“Will they let you see her?”

 

 

“Doubtful,” he admits. “But I will try.”

 

 

They both look back to the dance floor, as he pulls his hand away, before turning it over offering his palm to her.

 

 

“May I?” he asks.

 

 

Beaming at him, she accepts.

 

 

The coven gives them a wide birth when the pair approach the floor, and Sabrina takes the occasion to show off a little, letting her wings spread freely on display. A collective gasp comes from the crowd, then echoes itself, when her father does the same.

 

 

With a radiant smile on her face, Sabrina is sure to make eye contact with each member of her family, and every one of her girls, who all look back in appreciation of the moment. Father and daughter making their debut before the Church of Night. He twirls her once before pulling back, as she lets her head fall against his chest, thinking this is where I belong.

 

 

_This is who I am._

 

 

 


End file.
